


Blue Butterfly

by sheplaysbass



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Author Rey, F/M, First Meeting, How Do I Tag, I wrote this for school, Kinda fluff, ben and butterflies, ben doesn't get a profession, finn if you squint, quarantine got me touch starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:47:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24192334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheplaysbass/pseuds/sheplaysbass
Summary: This was a story prompt. "In the midst of writer's block, an author goes to sit at a bus station looking for inspiration. They get more than they bargained for."Basically, Rey is an author, Finn is her publisher, Ben is the inspiration.I am obsessed with Ben Solo and his blue butterflies, so this is the manifestation of that.
Relationships: Rey & Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	Blue Butterfly

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for my Creative Writing final. This is the first work that I've posted, please be kind.

It had been at least an hour. An hour of sitting at the bus stop, tapping my pen impatiently against my leg as I waited. I didn’t know what I was waiting for, it could have been a giraffe at that point. I just needed something to get me out of my headspace. I had been in a writer’s block for weeks, which was not good.  
My publisher wanted something a month ago, and I was unable to deliver. Of course, they were understanding, Finn always was. But, I could never come to terms with it being a normal thing, I’ve always been too hard on myself.   
By now, a good two hours had to have gone by. I curse internally, hating that I got caught up in my thoughts and I could’ve missed the perfect person, or car, or dog, or anything. I suddenly feel a presence next to me, and I glance in their direction, hoping they’re that person. They are.  
The stranger, who I can now see is a guy, is the literal definition of a brick wall. I am a tiny person as it is, but this man makes me look like a toddler. Before I realize, I have my pen in my notebook, furiously writing down a story that I have no idea if it makes sense. “Like what you see?” The man mumbles.  
“I’m sorry?” I say, slightly confused, lifting my head to meet his gaze.  
“You took a good look at me and now you’re writing, quite aggressively I might add. I thought you were writing about me.”  
“I am,” he raises an eyebrow, I blush. “Not like that! I mean, I’ve been in a writer’s block for way too long and I dunno, you just, sparked inspiration, I guess.” The stranger nods, I go back to writing.  
“Inspiration comes at the worse times,” he says, “what’s your name?”  
“I’m Rey, and you?”   
“Ben. What's your favorite flower?"  
“Are we playing twenty questions? And Daisies,” he raises an eyebrow again, and I make a mental note to make my character do the same, “If you want an explanation, there's not a huge one. I've just always loved how simple and pretty they are."  
“Duly noted. And,” he pauses, nodding towards my notebook, “if we are playing, you’re not very invested in it.”  
I apologize, and close my notebook, “I just wanted to get my thoughts out. I’ll play if you want.”  
He smiles, and I make another mental note about adding it to my character. “So, Rey, what are you writing about?”  
We play twenty questions, although it ends up being more than twenty. I find out that he’s into classical music, more than a twenty-four-year-old should be, he comments. I find out that he has a terrible relationship with his parents, and his uncle has been trying to get him to fix it for the past year or so. I find out that he loves the color blue, and that his favorite animal is a butterfly. But, you wouldn’t know any of that from his appearance, he’s in an all-black suit, black jacket, black shirt, black tie, black socks, black shoes.  
I tell him things too, I mean, that’s how the game works. I tell him that I hate classical music, he looks at me like I am crazy. I tell him how I grew up in the desert, scavenging for bones with my best friend who is now my publisher. I tell him how I hated reading as a child. He tells me that I look like I had been a bookworm my entire life. I look down at my outfit, a white hoodie, leggings, and my hair in a messy bun. We laugh at that.   
It becomes clear that both of us are not taking a bus anywhere, and he asked if I was interested in a coffee date. I said yes, not just because I wanted a coffee and maybe a muffin, but because I enjoyed his presence.   
He raved about this coffee shop the entire walk there, “this place has the best scones you’ve ever seen”, “you won’t believe how fresh even the water is”, “I swear they have a coffee bean plant in the back”. I can’t help but smile at the way he talks about the shop like it’s his dog or something. I understand why his favorite color is blue and why his favorite animal is a butterfly. The color blue is trusting, and loyal. A butterfly represents hope and beauty. Ben is a blue butterfly.

“I’ve never really believed in love at first sight.” I smile, looking down at the floor, “Love is a scary thing. You trust someone so much that you are just able to give your heart to them, it scared me. But, you never get anywhere in life being scared. I’m so glad I stopped being scared and I allowed myself to give you my heart.”  
I lift my head from the floor, back to his gaze. Tears are running down his face, I can’t help but smile bigger.   
“Stop making me cry so much, I can’t let people know I’m a baby,” Ben saps, wiping his tears. I giggle.   
“It’s not my fault you make me draw out so much emotion,” I giggle, leaning into him.   
I used to hate writer’s block, it made me think I was a terrible writer, but I am thankful for in every day. It brought me to that bus stop, and it brought me to my blue butterfly.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this little one-shot thingy. I won't be writing any more of this unless you want me to.


End file.
